Full Circle
by Anonymississippi
Summary: The Doctor and Donna have a small tussle while holidaying on Artlorieb V. Cabins and coco and bears, oh my! Adventure/Friendship/Romance/Humor... just a smattering of genres, really. Rated T more so for safety.
1. Getting Bearings

_**This is what happens when I sit down to write a one-shot. It somehow escalates to 10,000 words... exactly. Sort of a leave-off from The Doctor at Downton crossover, but this adventure is barely mentioned in the epilogue, and you don't have to read that to get it. Anyway, don't own Dr. Who or any characters, but Tate and Tennants's chemistry is just so fun to play with. Enjoy :)**_

"Have I mentioned I'm going to kill you?"

"Only about a dozen times today."

Donna, as it somehow always happens, found herself stuck nearly twenty feet in the air on the branches of a snow-covered pine equivalent on Artlorieb V, one of the seasonal planets about six galaxies over from her own that had the peculiar characteristic of remaining wintery year-round. Donna liked snow, liked winter, liked Christmas and the fashion that came during those colder months; however, she did NOT like running for her life through snow drifts rising above her head, crashing into branches and shrubbery as a genetically-altered grizzly bear with the sniffer of a Bloodhound treed her and the Doctor in what could only be described as a blizzard of epic proportions.

The wind whipped the branches around them, stinging Donna's exposed eyes and flushing her cheeks despite the massive black hooded-coat she donned for their 'quick little hike'. She should have known better. The Doctor never planned outings with such diminutive adjectives. Which somehow led them on a hike, through unfamiliar wilderness, where the Doctor might have mentioned bears, only to find the pair here, in a tree, with said bear standing up to his full eight feet and leaning heavily on the trunk. The tree, though rather large, still swayed under the combined powers of genetically-altered bear weight and hurricane-force winds.

"Hope you've got a plan for us, Sunshine!" she yelled down, nearly booting the Doctor in the head as her foot slipped off a snowy foothold.

"Yes, well, working on it," he said, not doing much more than staring at the tree bark.

"You do realize humans weren't meant for these kinds of temperatures!"

"Our biologies are nearly identical, I'm cold too!"

She looked skywards, trying to figure out what her chances were of reaching the top of the tree. If she could climb a couple more feet, she would be able to see over the rest of the treetops and maybe even get a glimpse of the scattered resort cabins. The Doctor had brought them here after yet another harrowing adventure, insisting that some cool mountain air and colorful atmospheric undulations were just the ticket for a restful, rejuvenating holiday. Yet all Donna currently saw was about fifteen feet of tightly woven bramble that she had to navigate, not to mention the slippery branches.

"Since you're being strangely quiet, I'm just gonna pop up a few more feet," Donna said, releasing her hold from the middle of the trunk. "If I can find an opening, maybe we can get our bearings, figure out which way we need to go."

The Doctor looked up at her from a limb below, laughter muffled by the wind.

"Just what is so funny, Spaceman?"

"You know!" he shouted, pointing up and then pointing down. "Bearings… _bear_ings."

"I'm gonna kill him," she muttered, hoisting herself up to the next branch.

The climb, she thought, wasn't as bad as it could've been. Sure, she added a few more scratches to her face, some sort of wood beetle nearly crawled up her nose, and she was pretty sure her hair looked like Little Orphan Annie's after a double perm now that her hood was down. But, on the whole, not falling to her death was far preferable. She found her footing at the base of the lofty branches, praying that the higher she climbed the thinner ones would still hold her weight. She would have to say, adventures with the Doctor had bolstered her physical conditioning, including flexibility and cardio endurance. Hiding in cupboards and running from monster-aliens pretty much ensured amplification of those two traits, which certainly helped with tree climbing. She found a gap near the top and peered out over the rest of the forest. It was, she grudgingly admitted to herself, quite beautiful. The rolling hills were covered in trees that seemed to stretch on forever, patchwork green and white. The expansive wood was interrupted here and there by the clearest lakes Donna had ever laid eyes on, all of varying sizes. Some had iced over, yet others hadn't, a peculiarity Donna chocked up to, you know, _being on another planet_. Their cabin rested near one of those frozen lakes, Donna remembered, and so she twisted as much of a 360 as she could manage while precariously positioned on the high limb. The trees blended together, and the height didn't exactly help with her disoriented view. She tried again, circling slower this time. She scanned each lake carefully, and finally, locked her vision on a little cabin several hundred yards off. And uphill. Fan-freakin'-tastic. She tilted her head quizzically, pondering their chances of survival when she heard the muffled speech of the Doctor from nearly twenty feet below her.

"Oi, you! What was that?" she yelled. Her only answer was more muffled words. "Alright then, hold on a tic, I'll be right back down."

Somehow, though, the descent was trickier than the climb. The ample footholds from the first go 'round somehow disappeared, causing Donna to stretch uncomfortable distances as the snow continued to settle on every branch her fingers grasped. She moved slowly, picking each limb with care as she caught another glimpse of the massive beast below, pacing anxiously on the ground. There were branches strewn about the bear's path, as if some mad Time Lord had tried to fend off a gigantic bear by throwing sticks at it. She hollered again as the wind settled, noticing the Doctor's oddly camouflaged tan greatcoat flapping on the opposite side of the trunk.

"You didn't throw stuff at it, did you?" she asked, still moving downward.

"And what if I did? He seems perfectly content to wait us out, while we, on the other hand, are in a fairly tight spot."

"When did you become so defeatist?"

"When I discovered that bears here were immune to sonic oscillations," he said, whirring his screwdriver at the unfazed bear.

"Look," she said, planting her foot far out on a branch. "The cabin is about five hundred yards east of here. If we could just distract him, maybe you could use that thing to start an ava—"

The splintering wood didn't give her much chance to finish her sentence. She fell, knocking branches and needles and limbs, both bodily and on the tree, as she tumbled toward the earth. The tree did, thankfully, slow her fall, as she landed heavily on her right ankle. She couldn't tell if the sound she heard following the fall was a crack or a snap; she was hoping for snap. Vision blurring, she saw a fuzzy shape drop in front of the charging bear; a deafening roar filled her ears before she blacked out completely.

She turned her head to the side slowly, wondering why she was on the cold ground, when it dawned on her that she had just fallen out of a frozen tree. There were odd noises, loud shrieks and growls coming from somewhere behind her, but she was having a difficult time concentrating. Why was that again? Oh yes, she had just fallen out of a tree. Donna struggled to stand, but only made it up to all fours before the dizziness set in. She looked round lazily and met a sea of white, broken only by the brown tree trunks in the grove. She closed her eyes and opened them, awareness returning. The Doctor, she thought, looking up. The Doctor and… the bear! She tried standing again, registering a painful twinge emanating from her right ankle. Because of the cold, she realized she was quite literally numbed to the full pain. She stalked back to the tree she had just been in, noticing no paw or Converse prints on the ground around her. The snow was covering tracks, still falling thickly. She staggered a few more paces, then heard a distinct yell coming somewhere off toward the east. Changing course, she plodded down a snow covered ridge and finally found some signs of a struggle. A broken limb, an indention in the snow, as if from a fallen body, and blood, smeared across the glistening drift. Looking up, she focused on a shriek that made Donna's stomach lurch. She continued towards the sounds.

The pain in her ankle wasn't subsiding, but it wasn't the focus of her attention. Her breath came out in steamy, labored huffs as she trekked through snowdrifts up hill. Without the sounds to follow, she might have been completely hysterical; but those shouts gave her hope, a bit of a driving force to keep her head on straight. She kept moving, despite that niggling feeling in the back of her brain that told her she might be completely lost, the sounds and echoes bouncing off of ridges and misleading her as she hiked further into the forest. After another hundred yards or so, she emerged into a clearing, one that unfolded into the icy flatness of a frozen lake. In the middle of the lake she saw the Doctor, flailing about as he attempted to distract that genetically altered grizzly bear.

"Come on Paddington, alright there, Winnie," he said, only to be answered with a roar that would have made Sylvia Noble shudder. "Right, well, no reason to be rude about it."

"Doctor!" she yelled, stumbling forward onto the ice.

"Donna, get back!" he shouted, as the bear about-faced and turned his attention toward Donna.

"Oi! Fozzie, look, tasty Time Lord this way," the Doctor said, jumping on the ice. Donna noticed his right arm hung loosely by his side, like a marionette sans string tension. His tan great coat was wet with bloodstains, pooling around his shoulder.

Donna glanced across the lake, looking several meters in every direction, wondering if there was anything lying in the middle of the frozen water she could use to her advantage. She considered doing the ice-fishing bit and throwing some frozen bass at the bear's head, but she'd be the first to admit her aim and coordination were more than questionable on a good day, not factoring a bum ankle and possible head injury. Ignoring the lake itself, she scanned the forest surroundings and saw it, on the cusp of a ridge that jutted out over the frozen water. A cabin! And not just any cabin, but _their_ cabin, the one with the curious little window linings and gravel drive, the drive where the TARDIS was parked. If they could just hold the bear off long enough to make it up that ridge, they'd be home free.

"Doctor!" Donna called again, distracting the bear's attention. The Doctor had been repelling a charge up til this point with little sparks from his sonic, but the sputtering noise the screwdriver kept making didn't instill much faith in the device's continued usefulness.

"The cabin, it's up the ridge," she said, circling her way round the bear toward the Doctor.

"No, stay back!" he said, waving the sonic aggressively.

"We've just got to make a run for it!" she said.

"With that ankle of yours? Silly Donna, I think not."

"Then what's your plan?"

"Oh, you're gonna hate it!" he said, a bit too cheerful for her liking.

"If it gets us away from the BEAR, I'll not argue with you!" she yelled, watching as the bear reared back on its hind legs. It swatted a massive paw and the pair scrambled back, the blow just grazing the Doctor's voluminous coif.

"Watch it," Donna yelled, yanking the Doctor down by the arm. At her action, his face turned white and he grimaced, a cry escaping his lips as he dropped his sonic. "Oh no, are you alright?"

"Never better," he gritted through his teeth. "Screwdriver. Now," he said, using his good arm to reach for it. The bear was less than 10 yards away, practically toying with them as they had no where to run.

"I need you to get to the bank," the Doctor said.

"I'm not leaving you out here!" she said, pulling him by his good shoulder. She crumpled along with him, her ankle giving out in spite of her protests.

"It won't work with two people on the ice. Someone's got to remain above water," he said.

"Oi! What do you mean, 'above water'? If I knew what you planned on doing, maybe I could help," she said indignantly.  
"Donna, shut up, and get to the bank. Now," his voice, his eyes, his whole face changed. The Doctor morphed into the Oncoming Storm, standing between her and the bear like a battle shield. He turned his head over his shoulder and said quietly, "That wasn't a suggestion. Get moving."

Donna stood and gave his good arm a firm squeeze, unsure of his intentions but knowing better than to question him when he got that look… that look that ended worlds, not just beasts. She suddenly felt pity for the poor animal. Donna backed away slowly, but found herself at the bank in seconds. The whole while the Doctor and the beast engaged in a stare-off, as if the two were having a silent conversation and neither was backing down. For all Donna knew, they _were_ having a conversation, the Doctor conveniently forgetting to mention that he spoke foreign bear… telepathically. Or not. She was a few yards from the bank when the swift movement caught her eye. The Doctor rounded his arm above his head and drove the sonic screwdriver into the ice with all of his strength, firmly lodging it there as cracks spread across the ice in all directions.

"That dumbo…" she mumbled. "He wouldn't—"

The Doctor flicked a switch and the sonic emitted a high-pitched ringing, shattering the ice as the lake collapsed in on itself, sending the Doctor and the bear into treacherous, ice-packed waters. Donna watched as the bear lost its footing and was submerged, a stray ice sheet floating over where the animal had stood only seconds before. Her eyes cut to the Doctor's last position; she couldn't help the strangled yelp that crossed her lips as she watched his thin form bobbing up and down in the frigid water, ice packs shifting into place about him. She was back on the ice in a flash, skipping from shattered block to shattered block like a perilous hopscotch.

The lake ice was thinning from the vibrations caused by the sonic, forcing her to get on her stomach and army-crawl out to the pool the Doctor waded in, doing his best to keep his head above water with one good arm. She heard his gargling before she saw his head, the ripples giving her some reference point to his position. The ice was quickly moving back into place; Donna had to get him up and out of the water before he got trapped underneath the thick sheets. She thrust her arm into the frigid water, doing her best to keep the bulk of her body weight distributed equally over the ice patch she rested on. If she fell into the water that was it, they were both done for. She felt something solid and grabbed tight, fisting her hand in some sort of fabric. She yanked upwards, the reverse force causing cracks to form in the ice around her chest, but the Doctor was above water. The only problem was, she wasn't sure he was completely conscious.

"Oh no you don't, Spaceman," she said, moving back and dragging him though the brackish water. She rotated off of her stomach with her grip still tight, to where she was nearly sitting with her feet in the pool. She gave a gigantic heave and pulled his body out of the water and onto the solid ice, thankful for his small frame and surprising Time Lord buoyancy. She dragged him a safe distance from the crackling ice, refusing to acknowledge how blue his face looked. She set to work quickly, divesting him of his greatcoat, tie, shirt and undershirt before removing her own fur-lined coat and wrapping him securely inside. The gash on his dislocated shoulder was still bleeding, but the surrounding ice and temperatures helped with what should have been monumental swelling. She lay him down on the bank flat, waiting for the moment that respiratory bypass he was always on about would kick in. She slapped his face repeatedly, still worried about his bluish tinge.

"Doctor!" she tried, jostling him.

No response.

"Doctor! Wake up," she said, slapping his face again. "Doctor! Hey, Martian… Doctor! Oh no, Daleks!"

Nothing was working. She opened the black coat she had placed on him and put her hands over his bare chest. Her fingers were so numb, she couldn't tell if his hearts were beating or not. One thing was for certain, she had to get him up and moving, or else hypothermia would take over and kill him off, well… regenerate him off before she got a chance to brag about saving him. And she would not have that.

She tilted his head skywards and pinched his nose. She covered his mouth with hers, breathing deeply into the airway. Keeping her eyes open like she was taught in all her temp emergency-training seminars, she watched as his chest expanded. She withdrew, and then gave another deep breath, filling his lungs with some well-needed air. Donna rocked back on her knees and started chest compressions. "Staying alive, staying alive, ah, ah, ah ah," she pumped in rhythm to the song, taking in the full irony of the compression pattern for the first time. She'd half expected the Doctor to come to while she was administering the breaths and admonish her for having so little faith in his alien respiratory system. He'd then go on about her voluntarily snogging him, _again_, as if the last time she did it his life didn't depend on it either. She finished her final pump and returned to his head, tilting his chin up and securing his nostrils with her forefinger and thumb. She breathed heavily, the heat from her own mouth filling his, as she watched his chest rise and fall. She threw her head back, nearly breathless herself from the exertion, but then looked back down at his coloring face as she went in for another breath. She blew air into his mouth and felt a response, a slight puckering of lips and brushing of tongues as he turned suddenly, coughing and sputtering as water gushed from his mouth. She leaned over him, patting his back as he regurgitated several gallons worth of lake water.

"There, there, Alien Boy," she said. "Get it all out. It's like Jack's birthday bonanza all over again," she teased. She gripped the back of the black coat and pulled him up, face turning anxious when the shakes set in.

"D-D-D-D-Donna," he managed, shuddering severely. "You s-s-s-s-saved m-m-me."

"Course I did, now up you go," she said, reaching under his armpit. "Cause if I leave you out here to freeze to death it'll all be for naught. Can't very well get better if you're a Time Lord-sicle."

Donna looked up the massive hill they had to climb. She knew she herself was running on pure adrenaline, but her ankle would be in no condition for use after this climb. Not to mention, the Doctor could very well pass out on her again if his convulsions became too severe. She resolved to take it one slow, bumbling step at a time. They had all the time in the world now that they weren't being chased by a bear. The Doctor leaned heavily on her, shaking, mumbling incoherent phrases all the way up the hill. She would nod in the affirmative, doing her best to keep her tone soothing despite her growing anxiety.

"Went-t-t-t-t, swim-m-m-ming…" he chattered. "T-T-T-T-ooo cold-d-d-d."

"Why would you go swimming in the cold?" she asked, trying to keep him conscious. Keep him conscious, keep him talking, keep him walking, all the way to the medical bay on the TARDIS.

"It was f-f-f-f-f-un," he said, eyes rolling back in his head.

"Oh no you don't," she said, stopping to jostle him back to coherency. "Why was it fun, Doctor?" she asked rather loudly. "Why was it fun swimming in the cold?"

"C-C-C-C-ause I stop-p-p-p-ed the b-b-b-bear," he managed. He let out a delirious giggle.

"What's so funny, then?"

"Y-Y-Y-Y-ou kissed m-meeeee," he drawled, shivers extending from his body to hers.

"Yeah, big wet snog, just what you needed, right?" she asked, keeping her tone light. They weren't even halfway there.

"W-w-w-eee k-k-kissed befoooore," he said. "That-t-t one t-t-time. With the b-b-b-eee, no. Wasp-p. That t-t-tasted w-w-eird-d-d."

"Cause you were full up on anchovies and ginger beer then, Doctor."

"B-b-b-but now you t-t-t-aste nice," he stuttered. "Lik-k-ke," he sniffed her. "Sn-n-n-ow, and ced-d-dar."

"Tell you what," she said, eyeing the steep angle before them. It would be a miracle if they reached the top. "If you can be good and make it all the way up there," she said, pointing toward the cabin, "I'll snog your lights out, AND… a full bag of sweets, your choice."

The Doctor let out a feverish snort-giggle hybrid, his delirium and convulsions wracking his mind and body.

"J-j-jelly Bab-b-bies. And y-y-you're on, Earth G-g-g-g-girl."

"Then come on Spaceman, we're gonna go mountain climbing."

_**Reviews appreciated **_


	2. The Dr Donna

_**Who owns the Who? Not me. But this, this is mine. I hope you're still reading. Enjoy :)**_

After a hazardous physical struggle uphill, Donna shouldered the TARDIS door open with a nearly unconscious Doctor dangling from her side.

"Alright ole' girl," Donna said, TARDIS humming expectantly. "Got ourselves in a bit of a scrape. Anything you've got like, _now_, would be bloody wonderful."

They crossed the console room and took the first door that appeared, thankful to see an immaculate bed and several bottles of multicolored liquid on hand in the medical bay. Donna led the Doctor to the bed, struggling against him as he tried to remove her big coat. He'd lost most coherent thought and speech as they approached the summit, and she had to fight him bodily to leave the coat on until then. The struggle continued, until she saw a small bottle labeled _**Doctor: 1**__**st**__** Med. **_on the tray beside the bed. She ripped the cork out and upended the bottle into his mouth, head reclining as she pushed his chest down on the bed. He spit but she pinched his nose, forcing the liquid down his throat. Donna watched as the Doctor's body tensed, every muscle rigid as the medication began to take effect. He then relaxed fully, sinking into the bed as the convulsions lessened. She removed the big black coat, now practically soaked from melted snow and sweat, and stripped him of his shoes, socks and pants, doing her best to focus on her task and less on his body. There would be hell and mockery to pay later. His extremities remained bluish, so she took his long-fingered hand in hers. It was colder than the Ood Sphere. She ran a towel over his limbs and head, and heaped preheated blankets on top of him, thankful for a sentient ship in times like these. She turned back to the tray, face-to-face with a needle the size of a chopstick. Running from the needle was a central line that connected to a large bag of warm intravenous fluid, an unfamiliar but assumedly necessary substance to combat hypothermia. Her hands, cold and scratched, shook as she wrestled on the provided gloves and tied the tourniquet above his wiry bicep.

"Alright, Spaceman," she said, trying to calm her nerves. "I'm really not one for needles, so don't kill me if I throw an embolism your way, yeah?" The TARDIS registered her nervousness and elicited what she perceived to be a whirring hum of encouragement. "Yeah, okay, here we go…" she felt along his arm for a vein, and inserted the needle with as much force as she dared.

The fluid trickled along the line, finally reaching the conjunction in his uninjured arm. She waited a few minutes as the shakes subsided altogether, leaving an unconscious but seemingly non-critical Time Lord in her care. She crossed to the other side the bed, pulling back the blankets just enough to remove his limp right arm from the bundles. Over his shoulder ran three deep gashes from the bear's claw, ripe with fluid but relatively little blood flow. Back to the tray again and Donna found bandages and antiseptic waiting, and she dressed the wounds carefully over what she knew was a dislocated shoulder. Now that they were back inside, she could fully take in the swelling of his upper arm. The hypothermia she handled well, the gashes were practically nothing, but jamming a bone back into socket made her toes curl. The TARDIS, sensing her apprehension, did her best to alleviate the mood and streamed soft Bee Gees music over the med bay speakers.

"Aren't you funny?" she said, grinning as she slathered a bit more antiseptic on the open wound. "He is soooo gonna owe me after all this," Donna said, rising from her stool. "Funny, this trip was supposed to be him making up that blunder from _last_ time."

She walked slowly to the other side of the bed, crying out as she allowed herself to focus on the pain in her ankle for the first time since the climb up the ridge. She released a whistling breath through her teeth, tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She removed her boot and sopping-wet sock, ignoring the large purple welt throbbing between her foot and calf. Her head rolled down in exhaustion, the thought of wrapping her own ankle seemingly too much for her at the moment. She looked back up at the fragile Doctor, lying unconscious and vulnerable in the stark white medical bed. She rarely saw this side of him, so delicate and helpless. But he was her friend above all else, and she would be damned before she let a bad case of the sniffles force a premature regeneration on her watch.

She replaced the nearly-gone IV with another fresh bag of warm, clear liquid. She also swapped out the blankets, in the hopes that he hadn't started sweating again. She ran a hand over his bruised shoulder, abandoning the thought of shoving it back in place before she had a small break. The TARDIS gave a purposeful hum, diverting her attention to a door across the room. Limping away, she dimmed the lights on the resting Doctor as she slipped through the door to find her bathroom, warm shower water already running and steaming up the mirrors. Extracting herself from the layers of clothes, she stood under the hot spray, water nearly scalding her pale skin, littered with dull, purple-yellowish bruises and welts from her fall from the tree. Had she really fallen out of a tree? It seemed impossible that _she_ was the one doing the medicating after blundering as gracefully as an elephant in a china shop from nearly twenty feet in the air. She lifted her sore arms and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, noticing a lump near the crown of her skull that must have resulted in the momentary black-out after her descent. It was a marvel she didn't have a concussion, she thought. Or maybe she did. She didn't know.

Exiting the shower she toweled off and examined herself under the unforgiving light. She couldn't count the number of bruises on her front side or the scratches on her face. She merely ran a finger over a particularly long one on her right cheek, screwing up her nose as the tender scratch leaked blood. Throwing on the provided robe and a pair of thin sweats, Donna padded back into the medical bay to find a peaceful Doctor still slumbering. The IV was almost out, but there wasn't another bag there to take its place. She assumed the Doctor had gotten all the fluids he needed and withdrew the long needle from his arm, wrapping the tiny hole with medical gauze. The tray was devoid of medication, but held a pamphlet on reinserting dislocated limbs into their respective sockets. She skimmed the pages and illustrations, fearing to try anything while the Doctor was still unconscious. She drew back the blankets again on his right side. Placing a hand over his bare chest, she felt the steady rhythm of his hearts, beating purposefully as his body returned to Time Lord stasis. She thought back to the tree, after she had fallen, realizing now that it was he, the Doctor, that blurry shape that had dropped from the sky to stand between her and an overly-aggressive alien bear. She both hated and loved him for it, dropping into action without thinking just to save her.

"You know what you are," she said, tearing slightly. "You're just a big dumbo, sometimes. Like a big kid, really. Too trusting, too forgiving… you're just too brilliant, you are. Can't take you anywhere, though," she said, admonishing his sleeping form. "Cause you'll just run off and cause trouble. But it's always the best, best kind of trouble you get us into," she sat back on the stool and held the hand of his uninjured arm.

"And of course, I would never admit to this if you were conscious, but I love every second of it. I've lived more in the past year and half with you than I did my whole life before, and I wouldn't trade it for every world I've ever seen, which is adding up to be a pretty big figure, mind you," she sing-songed. She laid her head down on the bed, close to his chest, and pulled his hand into her curled form. "You're the best friend I ever had," she whispered. "And if you don't wake up soon I'm gonna make sure you're on laundry duty for the next month. And I've got _a lot_ of clothes."

And with that ultimatum, she drifted off, lulled to sleep by his steady breathing and the reliable hum of the TARDIS.

* * *

Donna blinked slowly, the back of her lids like sandpaper against her dry pupils. She attempted to lift her neck, but falling asleep in some weird position in some weird room on top of some weird blankets produced a stiffness and tension that even a trained masseuse would raise a brow at. She rolled her head slowly, tilting it right and left as she came to her senses. She was in a hospital, no, the medical bay… on the TARDIS. She fell asleep with the Doctor, waiting for him to regain consciousness. She looked down at their entwined fingers, the firm pressure from his grip the most likely reason for her waking. She glanced up at the Doctor, his hazy, tired expression appearing unnatural on his usually alert face.

"Hey…" he rasped.

"Hey yourself," she answered.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," he said, voice sounding like the sandpaper she thought was attached to her eyelids.

"Hold on," she said, standing. Donna had intended to go to the kitchen for water, but the TARDIS, ever on top of things, provided a full glass complete with blue bendy straw on the medication tray right next to her. She brought the glass to his mouth as he took a few quick slurps to lubricate his throat. "That's right. Now you don't sound like those natives we met on the fifth moon of Poosh."

"I rather like their accents."

"You couldn't understand a word they were saying."

"Right, which meant I could lead the conversation."

She rolled her eyes and crossed to the other side of the bed. "So, how you feeling?"

"Like I went twelve rounds with a Jadoon and came out on the losing side."

"What about your arm?" she asked, giving it a gentle poke.

"I can't… really, feel it," he said. "Is it broken?"

"It's dislocated. Your shoulder's all swole up like a massive wasp sting, Agatha Christie style."

"That sounds… unfortunate," he mumbled.

"Yep, kinda is."

"So, we gotta pop it back in, yes?"

"That's right."

He sighed and sat up. "Suppose now's as good a time as any." He glanced down at his bare chest. "Wait a minute…" he said, reaching for the blankets. "Am I—"

"About to scream very loudly? Yes you are. Here you go," she shoved a corner of the blanket into his mouth. "This is going to hurt, but not as much as the actual dislocation from what I've read. Just try to relax your shoulders, m'k?"

The Doctor nodded.

"We'll go on three, yes?" she said.

Another nod.

"One," she counted. "Two—"

She pushed, forcefully, and heard the tell-tale _pop_ that signified the reinsertion of the bone-in-socket. The Doctor grunted into the blanket, falling back heavily onto the bed as he clutched his right arm with his left. He started mumbling hurriedly into the blanket.

"Hey!" she said. "What's all this then?"

More mumbling. Sounded something like _burned a scone and the tea_.

"What about tea?" she asked.

He spat the blanket out of his mouth. "I said, 'you said we would go on three'!"

"Right yes, well, the pamphlet was clear about lying to the patient. Said if you actually did it when you say you're going to pop it back, the patient is more likely to do himself undue injury by tensing up. Don't get mad at me, the TARDIS made me read it."

The TARDIS gave off an indignant noise, seeming to huff at the pass of blame.

"Don't be that way," Donna said, looking up at the ceiling. "It was for his own good anyway."

She turned back to the Doctor, tired expression waning, as he sat back up to face Donna on the stool. "Guess I made a royal mess of things again."

"You're not the one who plummeted out of a tree."

"Yeah, but I did get us chased by a bear."

"Nope, that was me, too. I just smell too good."

"How do you know it wasn't me that smelled good?" he asked indignantly.

"I _live_ with you. I know you don't smell good," she said, cheek returning easily to their conversation. "Besides, I never expect just a nice, relaxing holiday with you. Gotta throw in a bit of adventure!"

He smiled half-heartedly and gave an unconvincing nod, averting his gaze.

"Ugh… don't go all guilt-of-the-universe on me, you know I hate that."

"Sorry," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Donna turned quickly, suddenly very interested in the coral patterns of the medical bay.

"Oh, I forgot… why am I naked?" he asked, bundling covers over his middle.

"Because you decided to go swimming in a frozen lake with a bear, you idiot."

He scrunched up his face. "But that doesn't make me naked!"

"No, but getting your soaking wet clothes off of you so you don't die from hypothermia does," she responded defensively. "I had to get them off, or you were going to shiver yourself straight into a coma. It's done. I'll go get you some dry things." She stalked out of the room toward the one door that had once been her bathroom. She opened it, only to find the Doctor's bedroom. She rummaged through his wardrobe, finding a pair of sweats like hers and a t-shirt and jumper. "Besides," she said, trotting back in the room laden with clothing. "Nothing I ain't seen before, Sunshine."

His head turned to her rapidly, bug-eyed and jaw dropped.

"You remember, with the hand, and the glowing metacrisis, you were... oh, that wasn't you was it?"

The Doctor stared at her, wide-eyed. "Wot?"

"You didn't think your duplicate regeneration would come into this world fully clothed did you?"

"I suppose I didn't really think about it," he said, pulling the shirt over his head. "But you were there? You saw—"

She nodded, eyebrow quirked with a knowing grin.

"I guess it's no matter then," he said, swinging his legs over the opposite side of the bed, pulling on the sweatpants. "I know I look great."

"For a skinny git, maybe," she said, finally able to face the fully clothed Doctor. "A skinny git with a penchant for trouble, by the way."

He took his good arm and gripped Donna's shoulder for support. "Just suddenly feeling like I've a penchant—"

He pitched forward suddenly, legs giving out as Donna reached to break his fall.

"For screwing things up on a monumental level," he finished, head buried in Donna's shoulder. She shoved him off of her and put a bit of distance between their bodies. She still held his arms as he wavered, trying to find his sea-legs. She stepped back and he followed, like a toddler relearning the basics of motor coordination.

"Well, welcome to the life of a temp. You get used to doing things the wrong way." She walked him a few loops around the medical bay, letting go as he finally attained some semblance of balance. "And you're not doing too bad for someone who contracted hypothermia a couple'a hours ago."

"Time Lord immune system, works wonders," he said, pirouetting in the middle of the floor.

"Well now you're just showing off."

"But what about you?" he said, face suddenly worried.

"Me? I'm fine. Couple of scratches, couple of bruises, plus one pretty bum ankle," she said, gesturing to her bandaged foot. "But, the TARDIS has a way with the pain meds, gotta give her credit for that."

His face remained hard, and he walked towards her. "Let me see, maybe I can help." He grabbed both her arms and held them up, dropping each one after deeming them healthy. He pulled her hair up against her protests and started rotating her neck back and forth.

"Oooof! What do you think you're doing?"

"Examining you, obviously."

"Does that include annoying me to within an inch of my remaining sanity?"

"Maybe, but it would go faster if you'd just hold still," he said, hands descending to her chest area.

"Oh no you don't. Watch the hands," she said, swatting at him.

"Just let me take a look," he said. "You may have cracked some ribs on the fall down."

"I think I would know if I had cracked my own ribs," she said petulantly.

"Do you have a lot of bruising on your torso?"

"Maybe," she said, shrugging him off.

"Any tenderness in the chest area or thoracic cavity? Favoring one side or the other?"

"No, I've been tending to you this whole time, haven't I?"

"Just let me examine you. I'm a Doctor."

"I swear, you use that excuse one more time, I'm gonna knock you unconscious myself."

"Donna, please," he said, face unreadable.

She couldn't tell what emotion he was harboring. Usually she could read his looks easily. Was it guilt? Worry? Determined need to be right about everything? She was too tired and too sore to put much effort into deciphering it.

"Alright then, if it'll shut you up," she said, and turned to sit on the bed.

He didn't take out his stethoscope, but he gently pressed her back into a reclining position.

"Okay, take off your robe," he said.

"No."

"But I need to see the bruising."

"No."

"I'm going to have to press on your rib cage—"

"No."

"There may be a crack or fracture on one of the floating—"

"Have I mentioned, _no_."

"Fine, have it your way then," he said, pulling the stool under him. He started at the top of her sternum, pressing gently down along the center of her chest. His fingers migrated outward, Donna averting her eyes as he made his way down her torso. He placed his hands on either side of her rib cage, long fingers stretching over the thin fabric of her robe. "Okay, take a deep breath."

She did, her chest expanding under his touch. "No sharp pains, then?"

"I told you," she said, sitting up. "I'm _fine_."

He started prodding at her stomach and then jabbed her left knee with his knuckle.

"Oi! Stop it," she said.

"Just let me finish, I'm practically done anyway."

"'S not your job to give me a full body exam!"

"Wrong. It is my job. Check the companion contract. In the event of minor to severe injury, The Doctor has the right to examine the companion and deem him or her suitable for further travel."

"I never signed any contract. You're pulling that out of your—"

"All finished!" he said, gently placing her injured right ankle back down on the bed. "How 'bout a cuppa, yeah? It's nearly… Oh, wait a tic!" he said, excitement returning to his voice for the first time since that morning. "It's nearly midnight! Weeeeell, as close to midnight as you can get, considering the hour measurements on this planet don't run in a necessarily cyclical nature. Come to think of it, they don't even have hours or minutes, and their days tend to follow an alternative pattern, measured primarily by—"

"Oh look Doctor," Donna interrupted. "There goes your point."

"Right, yes, sorry. But, we still have time, is what I meant."

"Time for what?"

"To do what we came to do in the first place! Now hurry up! What's the use of a holiday if we spend the whole time in the TARDIS, eh? Up, up!"

_**Reviews are like two paid weeks off and a vacation holiday of your choice...**_


	3. Colors and Coco

_**If you've made it this far, a big thank you! Hope you guys are liking our little duo in action. Don't own the Doctor... sadly.**_

"Right, yes, sorry. But, we still have time, is what I meant," the Doctor said.

"Time for what?"

"To do what we came to do in the first place! Now hurry up! What's the use of a holiday if we spend the whole time in the TARDIS, eh? Up, up!" He shooed her off the bed and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the TARDIS and into the snow, murmuring hurried apologies as she hobbled out on her ankle. Donna couldn't help feeling déjà vu, as this was exactly how their morning had started. But instead of heading off for the trail toward the woods, he took the short trip to their cabin, bursting inside the door and heading directly for the fireplace.

"Just have a sit and I'll get this going. Then maybe we can have that cuppa, yes?" he said, bounding around the room with purpose. He threw some logs into the hearth and then sprinkled them with what looked like purple sand.

"Chemically-enhanced flammable fire agent," the Doctor explained. "Makes this whole rustic thing super easy!" he said, flinging a match onto the wooden pile. The logs spouted flames without kindling, sending purple smoke shapes curling up the stone chimney as the smell of burning wood filled the log cabin. Donna inhaled heavily, lulling herself into a wary sense of relaxation. With him lighting a fire, something was bound to explode. But the fumes and the dim light just made her want to settle further into the comfy couch.

Darkness had fallen in their hours on the TARDIS, but the three moons were full, casting a brilliant light over the snowy mountainside. Donna hefted herself out of her cocoon on the sofa, missing the warmth the fire provided. Apparently the circulation in these old cabins wasn't on par with earthly units, or the system in the TARDIS for that matter. She crossed her arms around her upper body and approached the massive sliding window, gently reaching out to touch the glass. She drew her hand back quickly; the panes were freezing. She cast a scant glance at the odd window trimmings, a hard, black material running along the bottom and lower sides of the window frame. Alien decorating… it was still better than the pictorial curtains from Padadawaranook. Historical art is all well and good if it's a little Dali Lama statue, picture of a monarch, maybe even a print from the Battle of the Seine. But sliding those Padadawaranook curtains closed to reveal a bloody-mouthed alien warrior every night before bed was more than unsettling. Shaking her head, she returned her attention to the view outside. The blizzard-force winds had subsided and the snow had settled, leaving a pale landscape scattered with crystal lakes, a natural beauty somehow enhanced by its foreignness. Donna exhaled hot breath against the glass, blurring the sight before her. She then used her pinky to draw two stick figures outside a box, linked stick arm to stick arm. From her perspective, the figures were scrunched together beside one of the many lakes, the one with the spiky hair grinning back at her. She shifted her focus from the breathy sketch, noticing the Doctor's own grinning reflection staring at her from behind.

"I can see you, you stalker," she said, attention still out the window.

"Beautiful innit?" he said, sidling up behind her.

"It's really something… when you're not being chased through the mountains by a bear."

"You should see it when the moons line up properly," he said, pulling her in front of him. "They align once every seventy five years, and this beam of light hits that mountain there," he said, pointing over her shoulder. "It refracts the light at various angels, and the lakes all take on different colors… it's all, shimmery." He rested his chin on her shoulder and blew on the glass, bringing the stick-man duo to the foreground once more. "But these two lucky figures get to see something even more brilliant. Just a few more minutes now," he said, eyes roaming skyward.

Donna rubbed her arms, twitching at the sudden absence of heat as the Doctor stood back.

"You cold?" he asked.

"Bit nippy," she said, returning to the kitchen. "Gonna get some of that tea. Anyway we could boost that fire a tad?"

"Sure," he said, not leaving the windows. "I'll fix it."

"You want some?" she yelled, diverting her attention to the kettle.

"I think there's some coco in there, I can come get it in a while," she heard him say.

"Oooooh, coco! Where's that?"

"Right cupboard, second shelf."

"You want a marshmallow in it?"

"If you can find them, yeah."

Donna rummaged about the kitchen, heating the milk and stirring in the chocolate mixture. She found a bag of marshmallows that looked pretty ripe, so she tucked the bag under her arm and exited the kitchen, two steaming mugs in hand.

"I found this bag here, but I'm not sure how long they've been in the cupboard. Do you even know if marshmallows spoil?" She looked up to see the Doctor near the window, practically engulfed in flames.

"Doctor!" she yelled, dropping the bag and throwing the mugs on the fire. They hit the windows with a dull thud, muddy liquid raining down the glass. "Don't just stand there Martian, get some water or something!" she shouted, retreating to the kitchen to grab the still-full kettle. When she returned to the window in the main room, the Doctor hadn't moved. He stood near the middle of the window, back-lit by the linear flames spanning across the window. It didn't help that he was laughing his head off.

"Just WHAT are you—"

"Donna, relax, it's a heating mechanism." He grabbed the kettle from her and set it on an end table, coaxing Donna forward. "Surely you didn't think I would test water _and_ fire in one day. I may take chances, but that's just mad," he said, still giggling at her stunned expression.

"There's fire…" she said, reaching toward the glass. "In the windows?"

"See this black bit here?" he said, referencing the peculiar lining Donna had noticed earlier. "It's a pyroxene heating coil, and this is pyroxene glass, like volcanic rock, fed by combustible alkane molecules which ignite within the strictures of the—"

"The glass is on fire, and it's a heater. I got it," she said, once again retreating toward the kitchen.

"Oh, don't be sore cause I laughed at you."

"I'm not sore!" she shouted. "But we better clean it off before it starts smelling like burnt chocolate. A little help would be nice."

The Doctor turned on his heel and joined her in the kitchen.

After wiping away the chocolatey drippings from the glass, which was surprisingly cool for being on fire, Donna whipped up a second round of cocoas, dated marshmallow bobbing up and down in the Doctor's mug. She stumbled upon some fresh whipped cream from the ice box and topped her concoction with it, causing the Doctor to frown childishly at his now-dissolved marshmallow.

"Awe," she said, giving a sarcastic pout. "If you're good and drink the whole thing, then you can have another with cream."

She plopped down on one end of the couch, the Doctor following suit on the opposite. Hoisting her feet up underneath her, she cradled her mug and stared out the window. The flames only reached about three feet up on the full-length windows, the orange fire contrasting sharply with the blue and silver hues of the mountain skyline. Turning her attention back to the Doctor, she caught him staring at her.

"What ya know, Joe?"

He looked at her quizzically. "Everything?"

She held up a hand. "It's an expression. I blame myself, I should know better by now. What are you thinking about?"

"You."

"Good answer," she said, smiling as she lifted her mug to her lips. "Any _amazing_ quality in particular?"

"No, just, how good a person you are holistically," he matched her grin.

"Oh, really? I've some neighbors who'd like to take you on that one. I'm sure Nerys would have a couple words to say."

"They don't get to see what I see," he said, inching closer on the couch.

"And what's that? Tired ole' Donna, running around like a mad woman from alien invaders with bruises everywhere and a mouth to boot?"

"Nah, I see brave, brilliant Donna, running around with an enthusiasm for life. A woman with battle scars… and a mouth to boot."

"Battle scars? Is that what those are?" she said cheekily.

"Yup, battle scars. Hard-pressed to find anyone with the kinds of stories you've got behind yours. 'Cept maybe me, of course."

"We all hail to your greatness, oh Lord of Time," she said, toasting him.

"Speaking of my greatness," he said, moving right beside her. "Turn around, have a look out that window."

Donna rotated her body, glimpsing a brilliant streak of light on its journey over the mountains. From the streak ran more streaks, unfolding from the centerline like veins in a leaf, obscuring the starry sky with lines of pulsing energies. The veins expanded, thin lines growing larger and larger until the sky gleamed bright as daylight. As the beams touched, the world sunk back into darkness, a hazy dimness hovering over the snow.

"What was—"

"Wait, there's more," the Doctor said, pulling Donna back against his chest as she looked skyward.

The dimness grew sharper as one of the moons appeared again. A sheath of color unfurled over its beams, pinks fading into greens into purples into yellows and turquoises. The light streaks flitted briefly in and out of the rippling colors, like a lightening storm in a crayon box. The silver lakes reflected the multicolored hues, casting tinted shadows against the starkness of the mountain surroundings. Soon, the view outside the flaming window was filled with color, a kaleidoscope of tinted waves. This made the Aurora Borealis look like cheap fireworks.

"It's amazing Doctor," she said, leaning her head against his arm. It had somehow found its way behind her on the couch.

"Completely natural phenomenon. It's a reaction, of course, to the atmospheric pressures within a seasonal planet's environment. The light streaks are really—"

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"Some things are better when there's a little mystery about them."

"Oh, yes, sorry."

They stayed like that for nearly a quarter hour, the crackling fire and the colorful display weighing Donna's lids further and further down. She wished she had the energy to devote her full attention to the color show, but she was so relaxed she couldn't help from drifting off. She turned her head to face the Doctor. His head was right behind hers, eyes droopy, but still focused on the sky.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" His breath tickled her cheek.

"This is the best holiday ever," Donna whispered, eyes closing as her lips turned up in a smile.

"Almost. You know what would make it better?"

"No, what'sat?" she said, coherency fading.

"If I could collect on our deal from earlier."

"What deal?"

"This one…"

His hand moved to cup her face and he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips gently to hers.

Donna jolted from drowsiness to fully alert in an instant, placing a hand to his chest as she broke away from him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she asked, face flushed.

"I was only…" he looked down at their positions, her resting against his arm in the dimming light, both clad in little more than pajamas. His droopy eyes seemed to refocus suddenly as he moved back from her slightly. "You know, I don't rightly know."

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" she said, voice incredulous.

"I don't, I just, think, I suppose… It just felt right."

Donna snorted. "'Cause it _felt right_. Just like a man. Tell me Time Boy, how many things do you do because they just _feel right_."

He sat back, pondering seriously for a moment. "I don't know, I s'pose a lot."

"And how does that turn out for you?"

He slumped his shoulders.

"Exactly," she said, air of satisfaction in her voice. "And what do you mean, 'collect from earlier'? I don't recall ever promising a lip-lock after coco beverages. Might have to _disarm_ you again," she said, swatting playfully at his now _re_located shoulder.

"Ha ha, very punny," he answered. "But it wasn't me! You were the one with your mouth all on mine at the lake!"

"I was giving you CPR, dumbo!"

"I don't need it. Respiratory bypass remember?"

"That wasn't working! I'm no doctor, or a _Doctor_," she said, throwing out some air quotes. "But I know very well when someone's not _breathing_."

"Apparently not," he replied haughtily.

"I knew I shoulda let you come to on your own. Just knew that was going to come back and bite me in the—"

"And, you even promised to kiss me!"

"Wot?"

"After that, when we were coming up the hill! You said, and I quote, '_I'll snog your lights out_'. And I seem to remember something about a bag full of Jelly Babies."

"You better watch it or you'll have a lap full of hot chocolate," she said, rising irritably.

"Wellll," he continued, refusing to let the issue drop. "Why'd you promise me that if you never intended to deliver?"

Donna stuttered and put her hands on her hips, then let out a less-than-articulate _uherm_, finally settling with her arms aggressively crossed at her chest. She gripped the neckline of her robe for support.

"I did that because… because, you were— uhm, delirious, and wouldn't stop goin' on about me kissing you, which I wasn't! I was _saving_ you, and then climbing the ridge… you were just all for it at the time. Didn't think you'd be all for it now, though," she mumbled.

"What, you think I'd forget?"

"HYPOTHERMIA CAUSES SHORT TERM MEMORY LOSS!" she yelled.

"How do you know that?"

"Cause the TARDIS provided me with plenty of reading while you rested up in that comfy little bed of yours, all unconscious and helpless. You're welcome, by the way."

"I never said I wasn't grateful," the Doctor retorted, standing to face her in front of the multicolored window. "I'm just wondering what instigated that kind of promise in the first place."

"Well, how am I supposed to know? You were confused, rambling on about bears, and cedar and Agatha Christie, not to mention your teeth were chattering so hard I'm surprised you didn't chip any." She started pacing about. "And I was freakin' out because you'd just, y'know, shattered a _lake_ and had gotten completely soaked, about to get stuck underneath sheets of ice thicker than my Uncle Stanley. And it was going to be my bloody job to chisel you out of there, and all I'd have on my hands was a Doctor-sicle, and really, what am I going to do with one of those?"

He crossed his arms and grinned appraisingly. "You're funny when you're angry."

"Well I'm about to get super hilarious, Sunshine. And it wasn't even— wait a minute," she said, cutting her own self off. "What am _I_ defending myself for? _You _snogged _me_!" she said, poking him in the chest. "There I am, defenseless as an Adipose baby, and you come and attack me with that gob!"

"I think 'attack' is a little strong—"

"All I was doing was resting. You bring us out here on holiday, fix up the fire, get us some coco, treat me to some spectacular skyshow," she said, gesturing out the window. "Then you gotta go and ruin it all and _kiss_ me, just because…" she drifted off. "Well… just because!"

The Doctor didn't have much else to say, so he just quirked his mouth in affirmation.

"Unless…" Donna continued.

"Unless what?"

"Unless it wasn't just an impulse," she said, moving towards him slowly. "Maybe you really _want_ to snog me, you just want me to think it was my idea."

"What? Noooo… Come on, like you said, it just… happened!"

"Oh, _it just happened._ I know what it is."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah… been a little while for you has it?" she asked, voice oozing with fake sympathy. "900 hundred years of traveling, has the well gone dry? Need a little pick-me-up do you, eh?"

The Doctor started, flustered as he suddenly found her directly in front of him. He shook his head hurriedly.

"Just thought, '_Oh, Donna won't mind. She's my best mate and all. Gotta be good for a snog every once in a while. At least this time I won't taste like anchovies'_."

His breath hitched as she grabbed his forearms, stepping into him so their bodies were only a hairsbreadth apart.

"Well, never let it be said that Donna Noble doesn't keep a bargain."

And with that, she pulled the sides of his jacket down, mouths connecting as she rose on her tiptoes to meet him. After some initial resistance on his part, the Doctor let his hands settle around her waist and pulled her even closer. Donna tilted her head further as she swept her tongue along his lip, pulling back just when she heard a surprised yelp from the back of his throat. She smirked against his lips and was about to disengage completely when he stopped her, hands firm around her waist.

"It's not because it's been too long," he breathed, lips slightly swollen as he touched his forehead to hers. "I've just been too long around _you_… can't help myself anymore."

He pulled her back in, mouth more aggressive than the first time around, as he raised one hand to thread in her hair. He backed her against the flaming window as her hands shot up around his neck, steadying herself against his wiry frame. Donna felt a tickling feeling from behind her as the flames licked the glass, and the tickling migrated to her mouth as his teeth nibbled her lip. Another swipe of tongues and a puckering of lips, just like that afternoon at the lake. She had to break away, panting as she leaned back against the window. He glared at her, orange reflecting in his hazy eyes from the dimming flames behind her.

"Why aren't you breathless?" she whispered.

"Respiratory bypass."

"Sure, _now_ it works."

"How do you know it wasn't working earlier?"

She smiled, recognition commencing as she flexed her fingers over his arms. "So you could breathe, that whole while? You were just _hoping_ I knew CPR? What about the shivering, and the stuttering? I thought you'd contracted hypothermia!"

"Oh, the hypothermia was real," he reassured her.

"But the not breathing thing… you just wanted a snog?"

He waggled his eyebrows.

"Have I mentioned I'm going to kill you?"

_**Hope you liked this little piece. Review if you did, and if you didn't, review with suggestions. Always room to improve.**_


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